Selected Poems, 1968-1996

by Joseph Brodsky, Ann Kjellberg (Editor)

Joseph Brodsky spent his life advocating for the place of the poet in society. As Derek Walcott said of him, "Joseph was somebody who lived poetry . . . He saw being a poet as being a sacred calling." The poems in this volume span Brodsky's career, which was marked by his expulsion from the Soviet Union in 1972. Together, they represent the project that, as Brodsky said, the "condition we call exile" presented: "to set the next man--however theoretical he and his needs may be--a bit more free."

This edition, edited and introduced by Brodsky's literary executor, Ann Kjellberg, includes poems translated by Derek Walcott, Richard Wilbur, and Anthony Hecht, as well as poems written in English or translated by the author himself. Selected Poems surveys Brodsky's tumultuous life and illustrious career and showcases his most notable and poignant work as a poet.

Genres: Poetry, Russia

192 pages, Paperback

Published May 12, 2020

About the author

Joseph Brodsky (Russian: Иосиф Бродский] was a Russian-American poet and essayist. Born in Leningrad in 1940, Brodsky ran afoul of Soviet authorities and was expelled from the Soviet Union in 1972, settling in America with the help of W. H. Auden and other supporters. He taught thereafter at several universities, including Yale, Columbia, and Mount Holyoke. Brodsky was awarded the 1987 Nobel Prize in Literature "for an all-embracing authorship, imbued with clarity of thought and poetic intensity." A journalist asked him: "You are an American citizen who is receiving the Prize for Russian-language poetry. Who are you, an American or a Russian?" Brodsky replied: "I'm Jewish; a Russian poet, an English essayist – and, of course, an American citizen." He was appointed United States Poet Laureate in 1991.

Reviews

[Alejandro · Rating 5 out of 5]

My admiration for this man sometimes makes me cry.

[Drew Cook · Rating 5 out of 5]

I hope you’re not in pain, just lonely.
Pain takes up space; it therefore could only
creep toward you from outside, sneak
near you from there rear…

[S P · Rating 3 out of 5]

In the poem 'A Tale' Nobel-laureate Joseph Brodsky writes: "History never says it’s sorry, / nor does it say, What if. / To enter History, a territory / first has to come to grief." History is a key concern for Brodsky in Selected Poems 1968-96. Working mostly within the mode of the traditional lyric, Brodsky prefers to tackle timeless themes of travel, exile, faith, independence and the past; he is well regarded as a documenter of the individual's struggle to search for place in a changing moment. His balanced verse - often self-translated - is eloquent and witty, carrying a delicate drama and musicality in order to breathe life into places ranging from the Lake District to Vilnius, Old England to New England. Who else can compare the looming Colosseum in Rome to "the skull of Argus / through whose sockets clouds drift like a thought of the vanished herd"? His longer poems - such as 'Roman Elegies', 'Ecologue IV: Winter' and 'Vertumnus' - are the most haunting by far. Unfortunately, the range of poems selected in this book feels a bit uneven, with poems occasionally coming off as overly dry or lofty, as if stuck in time - perhaps a symptom of having so many different translators involved in what cold have been a more solidly edited and consistent homage to his career.

[Christopher Louderback · Rating 3 out of 5]

There'd be a large Railroad Station in that city-its façade,
damaged in war, would be much more impressive than the outside
world. Spotting a palm tree in an airline window,
the ape that dozes within me would open its two eyes wide.

And when winter, Fortunatus, threw its coarse shroud over the
square,
I would wander, yawning, through the Gallery, where every canvas, especially those of David and Ingres,
would seem as familiar as any birthmarks are.

[Jed Joyce · Rating 3 out of 5]

Exuberant wordplay with autodidactic overtones. Sometimes harrowing. I especially loved the poems set in Venice.

[Jess · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brodsky's lyrical oeuvre touches such humanity in his prose, his subjectivity approach a kindness irrevocable to human condition; his moments of exile, both spatial and spiritual, are rendered not as wounds but as apertures, alike windows through which the cold, clear air of self-scrutiny blows. It is in poems like the one that begins, “you’re coming home again. what does that mean?” that Brodsky’s genius for solitude I most keenly felt. The lines unfold with the quiet inevitability of dusk settling over a city, each phrase a footfall echoing through empty rooms.. neither despair nor bitterness, just a tender acceptance in one's own disquietude.. to be human is to be, ultimately, alone, and that such aloneness is not a curse, but a small favor for which one might, with a wry smile, in the warmth of recognition, we find our own; that in his guilt, we glimpse the universal burden of being.

"You're coming home again. what does that mean?
Can there be anyone here who still needs you, who would still want to count you as his friend?
You're home, you've bought sweet wine to drink with supper, and staring out the window bit by bit
you come to see that you're the one who's guilty:
the only one. that's fine. thank god for that.
or maybe one should say, "thanks for small favors"
It's fine that there is no one else to blame,
It's fine that you are free of all connections,
It's fine that in this world there is no one who feels obliged to love you to distraction.
It's fine that no one ever took your arm and saw you to the door on a dark evening,
It's fine to walk, alone, in this vast world
toward home from the tumultuous railroad station
It's fine to catch yourself, while rushing home,
mouthing a phrase that's something less than candid;
you're suddenly aware that your own soul is very slow to take in what has happened."

[Adnan · Rating 1 out of 5]

THIS GUY IS FUCKING ASS ok not to keep shitting on the Nobel Prize of Literature but genuinely HOW???? He tries to create a neat lil lesson at the end of each poem its so annoying and lazy and I can tell he's a bad father from his poem to his daughter alone. He has some good lines here and there I admit, but a good poem start to finish?? FUCK NO. Now we turn to one of my favourite lines from TO MY DAUGHTER (there was a poem where he used the word GUZZLING quite liberally but I cant find it rn so alas):

"on the whole, bear in mind I'll be around. Or rather,
that an inanimate object might be your father,
especially if the objects are older than you, or larger
So keep an eye on them always, for they no doubt will judge you

[Anne Earney · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very interesting collection, especially to read out loud. Many of the poems were written in Russian then translated, initially by others and later by the author. The ones translated by the author are especially interesting to read out loud, because of the way he used English, which was somewhat different from how most native speakers use it. I had to look up a lot of things mentioned in these poems - vocab, proper names (usually artists or writers), some Latin phrases, various names from Greek mythology. It was interesting.

[E · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant

[Nicole Gutierrez · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant.

[Micah Davis Westcott · Rating 5 out of 5]

Devon hendryx, hungover, starbucks venti mocha, sitting naked in my room bleeding cuz i crashed a citibike last night

[Jenna · Rating 4 out of 5]

I find it hard to rate or review poetry, there isnt just one theme. I like a lot of this, meaning of life from a rather dour perspective, the use of rhythm and rhyme strong even in translation I wish I read Russian.